TRP: Hansel, Mishka, Ripley, and Roddy (Home)
Muse: The second outdoor cellar at Mishka's place. There's a cot in the corner with Roddy sitting on it. He's sitting up, leaning against the wall. Ripley's also in the room. Being all weak and sluggish was boring. Roddy didn't have anything to do but read, write, and pester Ripley. None of those were things he wanted to do for very long. (Okay well, maybe pester Ripley, but also he should be nice and try not to do that too much.) So here he was. Waiting. Bored out of his mind. Hoping Hansel'd get back soon, and that he wouldn't be too worried. (Although worried enough to forget about the incident with the kid would not be bad.) It took a second for Roddy to recognize the feeling in the air. It was changing, shifting. Getting heavier. Felt like magic. "Ripley!" Roddy called, pointing at the circle. "Ripley I think they're coming back!" Sure enough, a familiar green glow sprang up. Same color as Mishka's magic. Finally. Izzy: It had been a few days since Hansel had heard from Roddy, which would have been fine coming from Jonn or Luci, but the kid had used that weird telepathy spell to get in touch with him just about every day they'd been apart. It'd been pretty reassuring -- both knowing that he was okay, hanging out with Ripley, and just in general hearing his voice while Hansel was stuck out on the sea. Nice to have a reminder that Skyport still existed, and was fine, and Roddy was fine, and they'd see each other again. Then it'd fucking stopped, and Hansel started worrying. It was probably fine. Roddy was just busy. He'd been using all his magic helping Ripley out. He just wasn't as -- clingy now, and he didn't want to talk to Hansel every day (that was fine, it was all fine). And then he'd gotten a garbled, confusing Send, and the worry had broken into something more severe, and he'd informed Mishka that they had to leave now. As soon as possible. Immediately. Fuck. Still fucking hated teleportation magic, but he had to admit it had its uses. Two more weeks at sea would've killed him, especially not knowing if Roddy was safe, and the land route would take even longer. His stomach clenched and he closed his eyes against the light until the air around him changed, and his stomach dropped back into place with a lurch. Always made him feel lightheaded, like he was about to vomit. Other things to focus on this time, though. Roddy was in the room, and upright -- conscious. Thank fucking Eldath. Hansel bolted for him, half-kneeling on the little cot to grab him in a quick hug before pulling back to give him a once-over. Looked okay. "Roddy, what the fuck happened? Are you okay? What the fuck?" Muse: Hansel was back!! Roddy grinned, leaning into the hug. He seemed worried but he was back and that'd go away. (Hopefully.) "I'm fine, I'm fine!" he said quickly. "I got kinda poisoned but I'm better now! Just really tired. Too tired to Send," he said apologetically. "But I should be back to good as new in a few days!" Izzy: At first Hansel relaxed, because the kid was most concerned with reassuring him he was fine, and he was up to talking, at least -- he was fine, okay, it was actually all fine -- but then he registered what exactly Roddy had said. A hand dropped automatically to one of his axes, the other staying on Roddy's shoulder. "Poisoned? Who the fuck poisoned you?" Muse: Uh oh. Hansel was about ready to go fight someone it looked like. "Some- bandit. Um, remember when I said my leg got hurt? I think there was poison on the blade. But we killed them already! So you can, um, please stay here and don't go pick a fight with the castle full of bandits?" Coyote: Mishka dusted himself off, wrinkling his nose. He kicked off his boots and began emptying them out. A small pile of sand poured onto the ground. Fucking desert. His skin was raw and pink from the sun. It was undignified to be sunburnt. "Well, welcome back, you dirty schemer," Ripley said. She rose to her feet from against the wall. Mishka hid his delight by delicately arching his eyebrows. "Oh, you. I forgot about you. You're still living at my estate, I see. Like a mooch. Or a parasite, some might say, if they were less polite than I." "Yeah, because you practically fuckin' begged to be my 'business partner.' Figured I ought to wait until you got back before I ditched you." "Oh yes," Mishka said. "Honestly I felt just awful for you. You looked so pitiful. Like a half-drowned puppy. Anyway, now that you're back on your feet, get out of my house, woman." "Nah," Ripley said. "I like it here. Got all my stuff. Maybe I'll fuckin' kick you out." Before he could come up with another remark, she pulled him into a fierce hug. Mishka scoffed, but patted her on the back. "I'm sunburnt," he grumbled. "Stop touching me, you're making it worse." Ripley snickered and let go. Izzy: Hmm. Castle full of bandits. All right, that was probably too big of a problem for Hansel to take care of by himself. Maybe he and Mishka and Ripley -- Nah. Roddy wanted him to stay. He settled, letting his hand slip away from the axe and sitting more fully on the little cot. "All right," he grumbled. "Yeah. I'll kill'em all later." He glanced around for the first time, taking in the cellar -- Ripley and Mishka talking by the circle, the second cot. "You been sleeping down here? In the damp and shit? Shoulda been upstairs." He scowled and automatically rested the back of his hand against Roddy's forehead. Did tortles even run fevers? Well, he felt cool now, anyway. Muse: "I'm fine" Roddy huffed. "I'm not sick, just tired. Went to the temple and everything." It had been close though. Roddy shifted, leaning against Hansel. He wanted another hug. "Did I Send at you? While I was sick? It felt like it but I dunno how I got the energy to." Izzy: Hansel wasn't sure if the grumpiness was because he was sick and felt bad, or because he wasn't sick and didn't want to be fretted over. Could go either way. But if he'd seen a healer already, then -- he just needed to recover a bit. Hansel hugged him again, remembering the empty bottle of antitoxin in his bag. Had to get that replaced. Soon, too. "Yeah, you did." He patted Roddy's shell. "Fuckin' scared me, there, kid." Now that he knew everything was okay, he was able to chuckle about it. "Got us back faster, though. You and Ripley been looking out for each other, apart from the obvious?" Muse: "Yeah, Ripley's been taking good care of me since we got back too." Roddy glanced over at Mishka and Ripley, sassing each other, and then back at Hansel. "Don't tell her but maybe I might have been asking for more help than I needed," he stage-whispered, grinning. It was kinda nice, asking for things and actually getting them. Even though Roddy was fairly certain from the looks Ripley'd been giving him she knew entirely what was up. In some ways, that made it even better. Izzy: "Y'little shit," Hansel said fondly, before remembering that affectionate insults hadn't really been part of his relationship with Roddy. Hopefully the grin made it clear he was joking. "Yeah, I won't tell. Top secret." Ripley was pretty sharp. She'd probably been indulging the kid -- she was good people like that. He stood, offering his hands down to Roddy. "You feel up to walking? We should get you out of this fuckin' cellar, get some fresh air." Shame he couldn't just hoist Roddy up like he could just about anyone else. Well, he guessed this meant that if he ever needed dragging around, there was someone around who might be able to manage it. Still. It was supposed to work the other way. Muse: Roddy snickered a little, pleased with himself. The walk though. Roddy looked dubious about that. "You know there's a reason I slept down here and didn't just hang out during the day, and all," he said, but placed his hands in Hansel's anyway. "Don't you make me walk on my own," he said, before hauling to his feet. Immediately he felt light-headed and leaned into Hansel to avoid falling over. Yep. Still very weak here. Izzy: Hansel stumbled back a touch under Roddy's weight. Fuck. Yeah, the kid was definitely too big to be carried, but he wasn't too big for Hansel to support. "No problem. I got you." He'd come back for the cot, or Ripley could get them or something. He glanced towards the other two, then back to Roddy with a puzzled look, catching up to what he'd said. "Wait, what reason? Something wrong with the house?" Muse: "No, too weak to walk too much," Roddy explained. "House is fine." Oh wait, before they left the basement Roddy had wanted to talk to Mishka. "Go over there first?" he aske, gesturing at where Ripley was teasing Mishka about his sunburn. "Wanna say hey." Izzy: Then he should've just stayed in the house, Hansel started to say, but shrugged it off and led Roddy over to Mishka and Ripley. He wouldn't've expected Roddy to have much to say to Mishka, but -- maybe he was just projecting from one kid onto another. Mishka liked Roddy; he guessed Roddy had started liking Mishka at some point when he wasn't paying attention. In the Basha cellar, maybe. Muse: "Hey you," Roddy called as they approached. But Mishka was talking so he needed to do a bit more to get his attention. Roddy reached out and grabbed Mishka's elbow. "So I almost--" Coyote: Mishka jerked. A split second of panic and shock hit him. He normally had iron-fisted self-control over his magic. But, for a split second, his grip loosened. It wasn't intentional; it was just the sort've thing that happened when he was startled. He vanished with a crack. Muse: Hey wait. Roddy had been about to say something and now Mishka was- no where to be seen. "Hey!" he complained to the room at large. "I was talking you know!" Rude. He leaned back more against Hansel, sulking. "Okay I'm ready to go outside now," he grumbled. Izzy: "Mm, he does that sometimes," Hansel commented mildly. "Probably just upstairs." He turned to help Roddy towards the stairs, nodding and raising a hand to acknowledge Ripley. He'd talk to her later -- thank her for looking out for the kid, see how she was doing. Had to take care of Roddy first. "You, uh, shouldn't touch him. Especially not surprise him. He doesn't like it." Muse: Was that what that was about? "Trying to get his attention, not startle him," Roddy grumbled, but his tone was milder this time. He'd need to find another way to get Mishka's attention then. Would poking him with a stick work...? Izzy: He started up the stairs, slowly, keeping a firm grip on the kid. "Yeah, y'know, he's just a li'l jumpy." And they'd just come through the teleportation circle -- he'd probably been a bit wired from it, a little more on edge than usual, his magic close to his fingertips. Definitely just upstairs, shaking it off. "Just yell at him if you need him. Always works for me." Muse: "Used to grabbing," Roddy said, using the wall for extra stabilization. "I'll try to remember." Yelling. Right. Some people didn't just brush it off when you yelled at them. Roddy'd have to remember that. He still wanted to check Mishka's reaction to getting poked with a stick though. Izzy: "Yeah. Takes some getting used to." They reached the top of the stairs and he took the brunt of Roddy's weight again, now that they were away from the wall. Strange to be back in Skyport's air -- he always forgot how different it was in Calimport, dry and sunbaked. Skyport was sweeter, cooler. He'd never really had a preference for one city over the other, when he'd been a pirate, but he was glad he'd ended up here. He angled Roddy towards the house proper. Muse: Roddy made a brief hum of acknowledgement, and then concentrated on staying upright. He was already tired and they had barely gotten out of the cellar. "Can we go sit?" he asked, briefly flapping his hand at the porch. "M'tired." Mishka was already there, Roddy noticed. Musta been where he poofed off to. Izzy: "'Course." Hansel gave Mishka a considering look. He didn't look too freaked out to even be around Roddy, so Hansel headed for the porch -- still stopping and sitting Roddy down out of reach of him. The kid would try to do better, Hansel didn't doubt that, but he was still under the weather -- he couldn't be expected to be perfect. Hansel stayed by him, with a hand on his shoulder. Coyote: “Oh, there you are,” Mishka said. “Sorry, got a bit excited to be home.” Turtle Kid was out of range for more grabbing, thankfully. Mishka thought about going inside, then sat down, exhausted, instead. He’d never teleported that far before He made sure to sit down at least ten feet from Turtle Kid. How the fuck was a six foot turtle-man that quiet when he moved. Scared the fuck out of Mishka. Muse: It was really nice to get off his feet. Nearly dying and then overusing magic took a lot out of a guy. "Yes, well, it was- empty around here after you left," Roddy said. Not quite wanting to admit to missing him, but Roddy could admit it to himself- that feeling was there. "Oh- Mishka. You know I nearly died scouting your castle. There are so many bandits there. So many." Coyote: "Oh, neat," Mishka said. "How did you almost die? That'd make a daring story. Give me some details and I'll spin it into something fancy. I'll start telling the tale of Sir Roddy the Hammer, the tortle fended off ninety bandits with nothing but a perfectly-tuned lute and two broken strings. Heroically poisoned... then rescued and carried home by his loyal paladin servant..." Ripley grumbled. "Fine," Mishka said, waving his hand. "Rescued and carried home by his loyal paladin friend." Muse: "I like the servant version," Roddy said, excessively innocently and smiled at Ripley. Coyote: Ripley snorted. As she passed by the steps, she paused to rest her hand on Roddy's head, then moved up, towards the door. As she passed Mishka, she rested a hand on him, too, and a soft, golden glow lit her hand. His sunburn eased a little. Not all the way, though, leaving him with a pink nose and pink cheekbones, and pink on his shoulders. She flicked his sunburnt nose, then went into the house. "I'll tell you the real version later," she called over her shoulder to Mishka. Muse: Roddy's smile faded a little. "Real version was scary," he said, looking off to the side and rubbing at where the sword had cut into his leg. "The actual fight was bad enough but we won. Ripley barely had enough magic left to keep me from bleeding out. Then I thought I was just getting sick but- think the bandit poisoned his sword..." he trailed off, staring off in the distance. Then shook himself out of it, turning back to Mishka. "Anyway, I like your version better," he said, with an bit of the cheek he'd just been directing at Ripley. Coyote: "Oh good. You can help me come up with it," Mishka said. "Y'know, accompany to the Silverlit Inn-- I'll start telling the story to a random stranger... imagine it. They become enthralled. Slowly, I attract a small audience, until at last I'm acting out some of the battle. And then... then in the background, there you are, slowly plucking on your lute strings... the music building... becoming a part of the story.... and then I turn and grandly gesture to you and say, 'And it was this very tortle!'" Yeah, that sounded good. Maybe Mishka could get people to buy them drinks. Maybe he oughta talk Goro into coming with to pick people's pockets while they were distracted. Maybe he should get Nixie to come along, too, to play the part of the very adoring audience member, loudly exclaiming how great the story was. Muse: It was a good scene. Roddy could picture it too, the tension rising, maybe using some of his spells for a little added affects, maybe even joining in and adding his own twists when Mishka cued him in. Now if only the thought of going through with it didn't make his throat feel tight and his palms sweaty. "Maybe- maybe in a week? Or two? Or more," Roddy hedged. "I like it," he added quickly, because that wasn't the part that bothered him. "I'm just um. I think I need more time to recover." December 6, 2018 Izzy: at 8:37 PM Yeah. The kid needed to get back to bed. He was looking antsy, and he was too much of a showboat normally for it to be because of the idea of performing. (Hansel loved the mental image, though -- Mishka building Roddy up. He could get used to that. Yeah.) "All right." He moved to heft Roddy back to his feet, fully aware he wasn't going to be able to pull it off unless the kid worked with him. "C'mon. Bed, you. I'll stay with you 'til you feel better, all right? Read you a book or something." He remembered something he'd thought of, in Calisham. "Maybe you can show me how to play that damn mandolin when you're up for it." He shot Mishka a smile before moving on to help his kid inside. END Home. Summary: Hansel and Mishka return from Calisham upon finding out that Roddy is under the weather. Much Dadding occurs, and Mishka bonds with Roddy over storytelling. Category:Text Roleplay